Project Dolly
by JJJJ12
Summary: Sherlock, John, and Molly get entangled with the British government after a cloning experiment goes wrong. Sherlock volunteers to have his genetic material used, leading to another Sherlock. Unfortunately for him, his clone is a bit more open with his feelings for Molly. Smutty chaos ensues.
1. The Creation

**This took a life of its own. I promise though... it will be smutty. Once you read, you'll know** _ **exactly**_ **what I have in mind.**

Xxx

The laboratory was ginormous. While the endless tabletops filled with futuristic technology initially put Molly Hooper on edge, the pleasant smell of sterilization comforted her and reminded her of St. Bart's. Yet, as she pulled her jacket closer, she still wasn't sure why she was deep in an underground facility, trailing behind Sherlock and John.

The two men were bickering about something ridiculous (John was cranky that they hadn't stopped for breakfast as planned and Sherlock was being, well, Sherlock) when Mycroft Holmes strolled in. A literal army followed closely behind, occupying every inch of the facility.

Molly blinked, her mouth agape. Mycroft had brought the entire bloody British military along! Her stomach dropped, wondering what exactly Sherlock and John were being called in for.

 _And most of all, why in god's name am I here?!_

Mycroft cleared her throat, causing John and Sherlock to end their bickering. The leading commander gave John a standard military greeting before looking to Mycroft for guidance.

 _Not every day you see a bloody military general taking orders from a suit like Mycroft Holmes._

"I'm sure you have many questions," Mycroft began, lowering his body onto one of the lab standard stools.

John practically gawked. "Yeah, you could say that again."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I can answer most of them. You've developed a new technology that is still in the testing stage. It's rather dangerous and obviously a state secret, hence your bloody force. Someone wants it and evidently has access to it. My job is now to stop that," He looked at Mycroft with a growing glint in his eyes, "John is here to assist me. However, I am unable to figure two things out. The first, of course, is what this technology is."

His gaze shifted over to Molly, who had practically burrowed herself into a corner. "The second is why Molly was asked to tag along."

Mycroft gave a slow clap. "Splendid, brother mine. Say, does your need to show off ever dwindle with age? I thought by age thirty-six you'd be over the theatrics by now."

Sherlock's lip quirked. "Answer my questions and I won't discuss your own dramatics."

His older brother practically yawned, although he kept his eyes on Sherlock "Very well. Everything discussed in this room is not to leave it. Is that understood?"

It was not an exaggeration to say that every eye in the room shifted to John Watson. At the attention, he gasped.

"What? Why the bloody hell would I tell anyone?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Many reasons. Spilled accidently when loosened with liquor. Disclosed on the blog in a bid for more circulation. To pick a woman up at a pub. The list could go on."

Molly moved out of her corner and scowled. "Enough! Tell us Mycroft."

He smirked at Molly's boldness. "Very well. For the past fifteen years, with the assistance of both American and French scientists, we have been developing a new biotechnology with DNA fragments. At the present—"

Sherlock moved to interrupt him, his eyes alight with excitement, his mouth ready to spit out a deduction. However, Molly beat him to the chase.

"Molecular cloning. Have you done it?" She was surprised by her own voice.

Mycroft offered a curt nod. Sherlock began to shift from one foot to the next, clearly beyond excited.

"My god. You've done it. You've successfully cloned something. What are we talking about? Rats?" He paused, until his mouth dropped further, "Organs?"

Mycroft nodded again. "Clever, you are Sherlock."

"So, there's black market interest, yeah?" Molly began again, blushing under everyone's expectant gazes. "Someone wants to sell cloned organs. Illegally harvested organs go for exorbitant amounts of money on the black market."

Sherlock blinked and looked to her, clearly surprised by her own knowledge. He swallowed and looked back to Mycroft. "Is this the case? How has this become public knowledge? Surely you and the brilliant sods upstairs have kept this under lock and key."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes. "We have, my dearest brother. But it appears that someone in our staff is either involved in illicit activities, or easily bought with a lot of money."

Molly swallowed and began to speak again, still blushing fiercely under the harsh lights of the laboratory. "Organ procurement is a hot topic, Mycroft. Are you sure you don't have a whistleblower on your hands?"

"What are you suggesting, Dr. Hooper?"

She gnawed on her lip and looked around the laboratory. "You… You haven't been able to just grow organs, have you?"

The room grew quiet, all eyes on Molly.

"You've been growing entire organisms," She whispered, scandalized by her own words.

Mycroft cleared his throat and gave her a curt nod. Molly dropped to the stool, covering her own mouth, feeling sick to her stomach.

John looked around, mouth agape, confused. He may be a doctor, and an army vet, but he was certainly missing something.

"What exactly is going on?" John asked, immediately groaning at Sherlock's angry glance.

"My god, John. Could you keep up? The British government has figured out how to clone people. And they're killing them to harvest the organs," Sherlock snapped.

John's eyes grew. "What? That's… That's just not ethical!" He squeaked out.

Mycroft rose to his feet. "Others would disagree, Dr. Watson. These… organisms aren't natural. In many cases, they're missing portions of their brain, or have not fully developed. We can save the lives of eight people with the organs of one reproductive clone."

"Reproductive cloning is illegal here," Molly spoke up again, finally coming to terms with the conversation, "Why is this happening?"

Mycroft studied her, hiding his surprise of her intuitiveness. "Stem cell research was also illegal for years. Every regulation has a loop hole, Dr. Hooper."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked around the lab. "Enough. I'm bored. Get on with it. So, you've had a whistleblower, and now someone knows that the British government is cloning people to kill them. Why am I involved?"

His brother sighed and looked to his men. He motioned for them to depart, leaving only Mycroft, Sherlock, John, and Molly to continue the conversation.

"We've had an incident." Mycroft was short, his eyes, per usual, telling nothing.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Do explain."

"When we first successfully cloned an organism, he was never fully developed. If we needed lungs, those would be grand, but his heart perhaps would not function fully. Or, the kidneys would be in perfect condition, but the brain would be half the normal size."

Mycroft began to pace. "We've yet to have an issue with any of the organ transplants. Our first was six years ago. We started small. Bone marrow. That little girl is now entering secondary school. I understand it's a moral grey area but—"

John snarled. "It's bloody murder, that's what it is!"

Mycroft stopped pacing and met John's gaze. "Tell me, Dr. Watson, if Rosamund was dying and in desperate need of a heart, you wouldn't clone yourself to give her one?"

John blinked, taken aback by the question. "I—That's—You don't—"

Sherlock scowled and waved his hand. "Enough. Continue."

"But, as expected, our technology has continued to progress. And just last week, we cloned one of our cadets and well… He was fully formed. No cognitive impairments. Body in the peak of health."

Molly covered her mouth, feeling sick. "Mycroft… What did you do?"

He cleared his throat. "Moral ambiguity is a tough discussion, especially when sitting in a room with the government heads of three of the most powerful countries in the world."

Sherlock nodded, a grin forming on his lips. "You've kept him alive. You're breeding bloody genetically modified super soldiers!" He announced, rather delightedly.

Mycroft scowled. "They are not super soldiers. If anything, he is just an adequate cadet. At any rate, we find ourselves in a peculiar position. What began as a solution to organ procurement has turned into a precision in reproductive cloning."

"Who wants this?" Sherlock immediately jumped in, ever looking like an excited little boy.

"Many people. We have leads to where our whistleblower has gone. I need you to follow him to a summit in Berlin. This will be a long, slow case."

Sherlock grinned and looked around the lab, extremely pleased with himself. Molly, however, was glued to the chair, her brain on overdrive. Finally, however, she deduced her presence. She didn't know if she was sick from deducing like Sherlock, or from the newfound knowledge.

She stood up abruptly, drawing the attention of the three men. She swallowed.

"You have precision in reproductive cloning, but not perfection," She began, her hands shaking. Mycroft always intimidated her.

"Where's the body?" She forced out, maintaining the older Holmes' gaze.

John gasped. "He's dead?! Did you kill him?"

Mycroft sighed and grabbed small remote from his pocket. With the press of the bottom, one of the coolers opened, forcing out a gurney with a sheet-covered corpse.

"He survived a week. We believe his heart gave out. But before he died, he ran some tests with the gentleman who donated his DNA. We found…"

Sherlock grew excited. "You found what?"

"Many cognitive differences. Whereas the cadet was exceedingly dimwitted, the genetic copy was exceedingly bright. Whereas the cadet was right-handed, the copy was left. The copy was able to pick up four languages in his week here."

Sherlock looked enamored. "Fascinating."

Molly approached the gurney and swallowed, glancing back over at Mycroft. "You need me to tell you exactly what went wrong."

"Precisely, Dr. Hooper."

"Why me?" She forced out, feeling small.

"You're skilled at your job and have proven to be a loyal asset in my brother's ridiculous career. I hope this is something that you can assist your country with."

Molly swallowed and nodded. "I need rubber gloves and a lab coat."

Sherlock grinned. "I need a cup of tea and a good seat!"

John groaned and leaned against the wall, his hand over his mouth. "I need a bloody bin to vomit in."

Mycroft appeased their requests and left the trio to begin their work.

Xxx

And so, the autopsy began, Molly feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders as sliced into the chilled skin. Sherlock sat only meters away, watching with a childlike fascination. Knowing that he would drive her up the wall if she didn't share her findings, she had begun to narrate every laceration and finding in real time.

Across the lab, John had taken to laying his head on the cool, metal table, a bin steady between his knees. He groaned.

"Oh, god. I would clone and kill myself to save Rosie. In a heartbeat," He moaned out, before vomiting yet again.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and kept his attention focused on Molly. "God, this is fantastic. The best thing Mycroft has ever tasked us with."

Molly just shook her head, carefully removing the copy's shriveled up heart from its cavity. "Sherlock, while you may not concern yourself with ethics and morality, the actions by our government would upset many people."

He scoffed. "We could do so much good. Lives could be saved."

Molly blinked and stopped her movements, looking over to Sherlock with wide eyes. "You support this?"

He simply shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? I could clone myself and then make deductions at twice the speed. And, if my poor clone were to die prematurely, I could experiment on his body parts. It sounds like a win-win to me."

Molly stared, mouth agape. "You are just unbelievable, Sherlock Holmes."

She shook her head and continued her work, trying to ignore the sound of John retching.

 _Why hasn't he run to the toilet yet?_

Beside her, Sherlock had developed a curious look on his face, one that frequently led to mischief. When he met her eyes, her stomach dropped.

 _No…_

"SHERLOCK!" She practically yelped, moving away from the body as he rose to his feet. "I know what you're thinking and you'd have to be daft to go along with it!"

He hissed. "It's a bloody perfect scenario! They will want to test the procedure again. I get to go on cases with myself. And then, when he dies, I get to experiment! What's the harm in that?"

Molly swallowed and ripped off her gloves. She crossed her arms and stared at him. "Sherlock, please. You can't do this!"

"Why not? I'm not at risk. All they do is extract DNA. I could aid cloning advancement _and_ play Operation with myself instead of with Mycroft. Imagine how I could mess with John!"

She was at a loss of words. But, while the thought of danger wouldn't deter Sherlock, she knew his ego could.

"What if the clone is smarter than you? Then what?"

He snorted. "Unlikely."

"What if he's the antithesis of everything Sherlock Holmes is? What if he goes around murdering people?"

He rolled his eyes. "This isn't a bloody comic book, Molly. Besides, if he becomes a criminal mastermind, I'll defeat him. And then get to kill myself. It actually sounds thrilling."

And so, she stood in the middle of the lab, mouth agape, watching as Sherlock hurried in search of his brother. She looked over at John, who had stopped retching to call Mrs. Hudson to check on Rosie (it seemed he was now concerned about his daughter's heart) before looking back at the body in front of her.

When she instead saw Sherlock's face, she took an uneven breath before slipping on a new pair of gloves.

 _It wouldn't be the first time you've seen him on your examination table._

Xxx

A week had passed since the autopsy. As far as she was considered, as soon as she left that lab, with only John along for the cab ride back, she was finished. She had done her part as soon she turned in her paperwork to some underling of Mycroft's. It seemed that the older Holmes brother had disappeared.

Along with Sherlock.

She hadn't spoken to Sherlock since he ran out of the lab, an excited bounce in his step that she had never seen before. On her end, she was desperately trying to pretend that the entire event hadn't occurred, as she now found herself in bed at night, trying to consider the ethics of the situation.

At any rate, that didn't explain why she was now sitting in the back of a town car, sitting next to a tired looking John, being driven to god knows where.

"I hate when she picks us up. Doesn't bloody share any details!" John hissed, his eyes locked on his mobile.

Molly continued to stare out the window, ignoring the feeling in her gut. She knew what this was about. It was time.

 _The git did it._

So, it was not a surprise when she and John were led back into the lab, the entire bloody military behind them. Sherlock and Mycroft were discussing something, standing beside two important looking scientists in pristine white lab coats. Between the group was a long pod-like chamber, similar to a futuristic coffin.

 _It basically is one._

"Dr. Watson. Dr. Hooper. Lovely for you to join us." Mycroft began, "I wonder if Sherlock has clued you into why you're here?"

Molly's "yes" was met with John's "no". John looked from Molly to Sherlock and practically pouted.

Sherlock beamed. "They've done it! My genetic clone has approximately three more minutes of incubation before he is ready to enter the world."

John grabbed onto the forearm of a soldier standing beside him, suddenly feeling woozy. "Come again?" He choked out.

Mycroft sighed. "Indeed. I let my brother convince me into allowing him to be our next test subject. He has outlined a variety of experiments he is going to run with the copy, as well as a post-mortem."

Molly whimpered and shook her head. "What if he doesn't die?"

This had the entire room turning to her. One of the scientists laughed and adjusted his glasses.

"With all due respect, Miss…"

"It's Dr. Hooper," She shot back, narrowing her eyes.

The scientists sighed. "Right. Dr. Hooper. We have not achieved perfection in the process. We estimate a two-week lifespan at maximum."

"And if you're wrong?" She asked again, her gaze steady.

"We won't be."

Molly laughed. "Clearly you don't know Sherlock Holmes. He defeats all odds. I presume his reproductive clone will not be any different."

A loud beeping noise silenced the crowd, as well as the sound of an air chamber being opened. The group watched with wide eyes as the chamber door opened upwards, a white vapor invading the air.

 _It's like a bloody sci-fi film._

And then, in practically slow motion, the genetic copy sat up and climbed out of the chamber, standing tall in front of the crowd, clad in only a pair of white pants.

Molly's mouth dropped.

She was staring at a half-naked Sherlock Holmes. Because it was Sherlock Holmes. From the height, to the build, to the hair, to the eyes, to the bloody everything….

But it wasn't Sherlock Holmes.

The scientist cleared his throat and scribbled down on his clipboard. "Genetic Copy 36 is a go."

Sherlock clasped his hands delightedly, staring at the copy. "My, I think I'll call him William!"

William blinked a few times and looked around the room, seemingly taking in his surroundings. He dropped his gaze to his hands, looking over each finger and hair follicle as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

Mr. Lab Coat set his clip board down. "This is typical of many of our genetic copies. It takes approximately an hour for us to see any sort of verbal ability. Their first hour is quite like that of an infant—discovering the world, making deductions, that sort of thing. But, while Copy 36 may share DNA with Sherlock, he is very much his own person. Similar to a twin. In fact, he will have no recollection of the life or experiencers of his donor. Sherlock is just that. A donor."

He grinned. "A blank slate, so to speak."

Molly couldn't help but step forward, enamored with the man in front of her.

 _William._

She hesitantly pressed her hand to his arm, causing him to lock his eyes on Molly. He watched her, curiously. Sherlock beamed, enjoying the show of his dear genetic copy.

Molly took a deep breath. "Hello, William. Welcome to the world."

To her surprise, he smiled in return. "Hello, Molly. You look ravishing in red, though I much prefer you in pink."

A pin drop could be heard in the silence of the room. The two scientists began to scramble, letting out delighted cries. Sherlock just blinked.

Mycroft cleared his throat. "I don't understand. He's already speaking. How does he know who Dr. Hooper is?"

Mr. Lab Coat hissed. "We don't know! This is unprecedented!"

Molly gently touched William's cheek, staring into his blue eyes in a way that she had never been allowed to with Sherlock. "What's your god-daughter's name, William?"

"Rosie," He replied with an easy smile, "And she has the world's most beautiful, god-mother. You."

And then, to everyone's shock, Mycroft's disgust, and John's morbid fascination, William leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss.

Sherlock on the other hand, watched, his mouth agape. And to be frank, he was jealous.

 _Game on, clone._

 **To be continued…**


	2. Subject 36

Molly could have sworn she was dreaming. Because beneath the fluorescent light of the fancy laboratory, under the watchful eyes of half the British military and the nation's smartest scientists, she was being kissed by Sherlock Holmes.

Wait. No. This wasn't Sherlock Holmes. The specimen looked like him. Felt like him. In some, basic, instinctual, masculine sort of way it also _smelled_ like him.

Yet, this Sherlock Holmes was kissing her passionately, holding her close in a way that only heroes in romantic novels held their women. This Sherlock Holmes had wasted no time shoving his tongue in her mouth, obliterating all thoughts in her head. His hands were moving from her jean-clad hips, to her jumper-clad back, to her wavy hair, to every accessible part of her body.

She had barely a chance to react before the warm, sensual being was pulled away from her. When she opened her eyes, she was astonished to watch William being forced into what she considered to be a stylish prison jumpsuit. Two soldiers stood beside him, monitoring his progress. William, however, had developed a Sherlock-like scowl on his face.

And then there was the _real_ Sherlock, staring at his clone with wide eyes and an open mouth, presumably buffering.

"I—he—what?" Molly managed to squeak out, watching as William's toned form zipped into the body suit. He met Molly's gaze and smirked. Then, he winked.

 _He bloody winked at me!_

The lead scientist ran a hand through his hair, clearly overwhelmed by the unexpected sequence of events.

"Okay," He forced out, trying to get everyone to focus on him, "This has never happened before. We're just going to take Subject 36 into one of our rooms. Do our standard vital tests, and then he will be free to roam about the facility with you, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock nodded, his eyes still glossed over, barely digesting the words of the scientist. William, however, still had a scowl on his face.

"My name is William. I'd much prefer if you called me that instead of your subject. I belong to no one." He grinned and looked back over to Molly, who was still standing on shaky legs with wide eyes, "Except to dearest Molly. My heart does belong to her."

Molly let out a noise of disbelief as William was led out of the room by the soldiers, his team of scientists following behind. She remained in the room, accompanied by only a dazed Sherlock, an irritated Mycroft, and John. As she dropped to one of the stools, John let out a laugh.

"Did that really just happy?" He laughed out, his voice sounding rather crazy, "Did Mycroft really allow Sherlock to clone himself?"

Mycroft cleared his throat and gave John a dirty look. "I would be remiss if I turned down a willing donor, especially one as intelligent as my brother."

John let out another maniacal laugh. "Wonderful. Loved seeing the clone attack Molly. That was exactly what you had in mind, right?"

Mycroft opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Molly.

"He didn't attack me," She began, her voice steadier than she expected, "He gave me a kiss. It was chaste at first. Yeah, it got more intense but…"

Her cheeks turned red as she considered her words, her teeth digging into her bottom lip, "It was the kiss of a man who cared deeply about me. That I can figure out from experience."

Sherlock finally came to be, shaking his head as his thoughts escaped the confides of his mind palace. His eyes landed on Mycroft. "Where have they taken him?"

"He needs to have his vitals checked. It's like dealing with a newborn, Sherlock. We need to see what, if anything, is wrong with him. Of course, it doesn't help that he's already passed the catatonic state."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "This should have been expected, considering how clever I am."

"Yeah? Did you expect him to kiss Molly? Does that have to do with how _clever_ you are?" John piped in, his arms crossed in his standard 'Sherlock is a prat' pose.

"It was basic instinct. Like an infant desires the warmth of its mother, my genetic copy felt the same. It helped that Molly was… Well, she was the only female in the room." He replied, trying to convince himself as much as the others remaining in the room.

Molly blinked and couldn't help but laugh. She looked over at Sherlock's cold gaze. "Let me make sure I understand. You think that your bloody clone kissed me because I was a warm-blooded female?"

"Precisely. Like an infant looking for a breast to suckle."

Molly shook her head and looked at Mycroft. "I want to leave. I'm sure John wants to get back to Rosie."

Mycroft looked over at Sherlock, who in return gave his brother a curt nod. Mycroft met Molly's gaze.

"I'm afraid we have an agenda to be fulfilled, Dr. Hooper."

Molly raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me? If you return my bloody mobile I can call a cab myself."

Mycroft cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, you will be remaining at the facility for the duration of the subject's life."

Her eyes widened. "Excuse me? Since when did I agree to that? In case you weren't aware, I have a life and a job to attend to!"

Mycroft waved his hand. "Your boss has been made aware of your situation. Your cat is staying with Martha Hudson. And, of course, you will be rewarded substantially for your service to the nation."

She narrowed her eyes. "Rewarded?"

Another curt nod from Mycroft. "Fifty thousand pounds. For an expected two weeks of work."

Molly squeaked and nearly fell over.

 _Fifty thousand pounds?!_

She took a deep breath, thinking of the possibilities she could do with that type of money. She swallowed and met Mycroft's gaze.

"Fine."

She took a seat and dropped her chin to hand, still aggravated with the entire situation. John looked over at Mycroft expectantly.

"Will I also get fifty thousand pounds to help out?" He asked, his voice with a hint of excitement to it.

Mycroft shook his head. "We would be terrible people to separate you from your daughter for so long. I will have my chauffeur and Anthea return you to the city whenever you'd like to go."

John gaped and looked to Sherlock. "You git! Why am I being sent away?"

Sherlock gave him a nasty look. "You vomited at just the thought of reproductive cloning. I can't have that during my experiment. I will text you updates and you may come and go as you please."

John scoffed and gave Mycroft and Sherlock one final dirty look. He looked over at Molly and sighed.

"Jeez, Molly. Good luck with this. Mycroft, Sherlock, and another Sherlock? I don't pity you."

And with that, John left the lab, leaving Molly with just two quiet Holmes' brothers. She sighed and pulled at her hair, wondering if again, this were some sort of ice cream induced dream.

 _No. If it were a dream, the clone would still be kissing me._

 _Or, rather, he'd be doing a lot more than kissing._

xxx

An hour later, she sat next to Mycroft in a small room, filled with only a few chairs and a table. One of the walls was a one-way mirror, allowing the two to see into an examination room, but to remain hidden. Molly looked at the spread of food on the table and was rather disappointed that she wasn't hungry. It was quite the spread, including an exorbitant amount of tiny cakes for only her and Mycroft to eat.

 _It figures the one time I'm fed like a government official, I can't imagine eating without vomiting._

Mycroft, however, clearly did not have that problem, and ate another forkful of some sort of chocolate fondant. He shifted his gaze over to Molly.

"Is lunch not satisfactory?" He asked, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a napkin that's corners framed an embroidered 'MH'. Molly groaned.

"It looks delicious but I'm just feeling… Unsettled."

Mycroft sipped his tea and looked to the examination room, watching as William's blood pressure was tested by one of the scientists. "I understand. This must be a lot to swallow."

Molly sighed and began to play with her hair. "Why would you let Sherlock do this?"

"My brother is unlike most people. While the thought of watching another Dr. Hooper prance around and then die would probably disturb you, it only excites him. In my good conscience, I cannot turn down a perfect test subject," Mycroft replied, before eating another forkful of cake.

"Where even is Sherlock?"

"He's being briefed on our whistleblower by one of my colleagues. I expect he will join us within the half hour."

Molly sighed and dropped her head to the table, still watching the examination room. She could hear, via the speakers in the room, the staff member explaining to William what exactly they were going to do. First, he described that William would participate in a question and answer session, allowing the scientist to determine exactly how developed his brain and emotions were.

"Subject 36. Question number one. What is your name?" The scientist asked, holding his clipboard close to his body.

William snorted. "Must we ask questions we already know the answer to? Perhaps it's time we get to the good stuff. But I'll humor you. William. I suggest you start calling me that."

The scientist scribbled a few notes down. "Very well. We'll skip ahead. Question number six. Are you aware that you are a genetically modified organism?"

William smirked. "Indeed, I am. I'm clever. But, I certainly won't let my humble origins stop me." And then, seemingly as if he could see through the one-way mirror, he looked directly at Molly, his lips still in a smirk.

She gulped and looked at Mycroft. "This is too bloody weird."

Mycroft just made a noise of agreement and dug into another tiny cake.

The scientist shuffled with his papers and looked at William. "Question number seven. What would—"

William held his hand up, rolling his eyes as the scientist stopped his words with a look of surprise on his face. "I don't want to do this. To be frank, I have a beautiful girl waiting for me, and I fancy a nice snogging before I eat. That work for you, mate?"

The scientist dropped his clipboard, his mouth agape. From their tiny room, Mycroft practically choked on his mouthful of cake. Molly, meanwhile, was watching, completely transfixed.

William stood up and began to stretch. "Feels nice being free after being locked up in that bloody pod for almost a week." He looked around the lab in a very-Sherlock manner, before gazing back at the surprised scientist. "You gonna let me leave or not?"

The scientist squawked. "We need to run an MRA and a CT scan. Then, we have a schedule for your procedures and tests that cannot be deviated from even if—"

William shook out his curls, a rich laugh escaping his lips. "Listen, mate," He took a step closer, a grin dancing on his lips, "I realize that your wife may no longer fuck you, but I got a gorgeous girl who needs a rather good shagging. So, if you don't mind, I need to go. You know, leave her body covered in love bites, suck on her clit until she sees stars, fill her with my cock and a lot of cum? You know the drill."

This time, Mycroft did actually choke on his cake, causing Molly to jump up and start hitting his back. On the other side of the mirror, the scientist had not moved, his eyes as wide as saucers.

"MRI and CT scan." He forced out, "Then I will let you… fill your girl with cum."

William grinned. "Thanks, mate. I knew you'd understand. Is there anywhere here I can pick up some flowers? Maybe a necklace?"

Molly didn't hear the reply as the scientist led William out of the examination room, leaving her to focus entirely on Mycroft. He had taken a sip of water and seemed to be fine, but Molly knew he was probably just putting on his best poker face.

"So…" Molly squeaked out, trying extremely hard not to think about William's words, "I take it that this is unprecedented?"

Mycroft scoffed and sipped his water. "You can say that again, Dr. Hooper. Subject 35, our copy of the cadet, was pleasant. He did not speak much, but gave articulate answers. He studied and learned four languages, as well as various fighting techniques. He could not, however, form thoughts of his own, nor did he have any connection to the world or his donor."

Molly nibbled on her lip, playing with the rings on her fingers. "But William—"

"William is talking about sexual intercourse and has knowledge of Sherlock's life. I do not know how he learned about coitus—Subject 35 was rather like a baby. He knew nothing upon creation and never learned such intimate details."

"Then how…?"

Mycroft sighed and studied Molly. "I have no answer for you, Dr. Hooper. Hopefully my staff can enlighten us all."

Molly just nodded, and proceeded to follow Mycroft out of the small room, her mind on overdrive.

 _Fill her with my cock and a lot of cum. Jesus. I could go for that._

Xxx

Forty-five minutes later, Molly sat between Sherlock and Mycroft, sipping a cup of tea in what appeared to be Mycroft's office in the facility. The brothers were bickering, per usual.

"Your security needs to be upgraded. How you ever let a man with that type of background get the security clearance he has is ludicrous! And now, I have to pick up the pieces!" Sherlock spat out before taking a sip of his coffee.

Mycroft narrowed his eyes. "It's not that simple. We will finish this discussion later."

And then, as if on cue, the scientist whose name Molly really had no interest in learning, strolled in, eyes tired, shoulders slumped. Molly bit her lip to hold in a giggle. It appeared to have been a long day for Mr. Lab Coat.

Mycroft looked to the man expectantly. "What do you have to share?"

"Yes. Where is William?" Sherlock asked, again excited about his genetic clone.

 _He must have really convinced himself that I was just a breast to suckle for baby William. I can't wait for him to hear about the cock comment._

The scientist cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to his omni-present clipboard. "His vitals and early test results were perfect. Eyesight, blood pressure, cholesterol levels… He is at the peak of health in every regard."

"And the personality test? The question session? Tell me, just how clever is he?" Sherlock asked, sounding like a proud parent.

Mycroft and Molly exchanged looks, which Sherlock promptly noticed. He looked over the scientist with narrowed eyes.

"What happened?"

The scientist sighed and flipped a few sheets on the clipboard. "Subject 36—"

"He has a name. Refer to him as such." Sherlock barked.

Mr. Lab Coat rolled his eyes. "Right. William is… An interesting specimen. Not only does he have knowledge of your life, but he is also familiar with certain acts of the… intimate variety," He flipped a page on his clipboard and cleared his throat, "That of course, does not include his knowledge of slang words and a very, very, colorful vocabulary."

Sherlock blinked. "I'm sorry. I don't quite understand."

The scientist cleared his throat again. "I… Well, I have some quotes I could share from our session?"

Sherlock scowled. "Go on."

"Fantastic." The scientist flipped to a page and looked between his audience of three.

" _You know, leave her body covered in love bites, suck on her clit until she sees stars, fill her with my cock and a lot of cum? You know the drill."_

Another page flip.

" _You're a right wanker, you know that? Piss off and let me fuck my girl in peace."_

Another page flip.

" _You ever just smell a woman and almost cum in your pants? She smells like bloody sunshine and happiness and my god, I just want to stick my cock inside of her."_

He cleared his throat, his face flushing, as he flipped the page again.

" _It's not just about sex, you know? Sure, when we shag it'll be marvelous, but I reckon I love her."_

Another page flip.

" _I'm sure she has the juiciest, pinkest pussy that ever was. When I finally get between those legs, I'm going to—"_

Mycroft cleared his throat, causing Mr. Lab Coat to stop and look away, rather embarrassed. Mycroft sighed.

"I would think my brother gets the point?" He looked over at Sherlock, who was literally glaring at the scientist.

"What did you do?" Sherlock hissed out, his blue eyes glued to the blushing man, "Did you taint the brain of my genetic copy?"

The scientist squeaked. "Of course not!"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Then how do you explain his filthy words?"

"We have a theory."

Sherlock snarled. "Vagueness will get you nowhere."

The scientist set his clipboard down and sighed. "Mr. Holmes, we believe that you and William have a… connection."

"You'll have to be clearer than that," Sherlock practically spat out.

"We believe that in many ways, you think the same. He has the same basic knowledge and experiences as you do. He can sense what you're feeling."

"Are you suggesting that he can read my thoughts?"

The scientist shook his head. "No, of course not. Just that… Let's say that last week you wanted to buy a flat and that right now, you're ready to make an offer. William knows that and could respond accordingly."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Boring. How does this explain his outbursts?"

The scientist bit his lip. "We think, however, that your brain anatomies vary slightly. That, for instance, his amygdala is larger than yours. We believe him to be more in tune with people that you care about and emotions that you feel."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, his gaze unwavering. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

Mr. Lab Coat groaned. "William is simply expressing feelings you have always held. Feelings you have been unable to vocalize or act upon."

The room grew quiet. Molly began to play with her rings, pretending that her heart wasn't beating at a mile a minute.

Mycroft sighed and rose to his feet. "Thank you, Dr. Dawson. We appreciate your expertise."

 _Oh. That's his name._

Mycroft led Dr. Dawson out of the room, speaking to him in hushed whispers. Molly took a deep breath and looked over at Sherlock, who seemed to be lost in his thoughts. When he felt her gaze, and turned to meet it, he jumped to his feet and stormed out.

Molly sighed and rubbed her temples, suddenly wondering if fifty-thousand pounds was worth the headache of being involved.

 _John was right. Two Sherlocks is a nightmare._

Xxx

 _William is simply expressing feelings you have always held. Feelings you have been unable to vocalize or act upon._

Molly collapsed onto the small bed, the words of Dr. Dawson spinning in her mind like a bloody hurricane. Sherlock had stormed out with Mycroft and Dr. Dawson following soon after, whispering like two bloody teenagers. That left one of Mycroft's associates to lead Molly to a previously unseen portion of the facility, housing a small but pleasant living area. Molly's temporary flat had a small sitting area, a full kitchen, and a pleasant bedroom with a comfortable bed.

Considering the set-up was at least as nice as an average hotel, and she had been promised fifty-thousand pounds, she figured she could survive two weeks in the government facility.

 _But can you? Moody Sherlock? Horny Sherlock 2.0?_

She groaned and sat up, dropping her face to her hands. This all had to be some sort of long-winded, practical joke. As if Sherlock would clone himself. As if said clone would have the sex drive of a hormonal teenage boy. As if said clone's insane sex drive would be geared towards her.

Plain Molly. Boring Molly. Just average Molly.

But then Dr. Dawson's words ran through her head and Molly just had to wonder…

Was William only vocalizing Sherlock's deepest desires? Could her consulting detective really want to, as so eloquently said, 'fill her with his cock and a lot of cum'?

Before she let her thoughts run away, one of Mycroft's associates entered, requesting her appearance. She jumped to her feet and zipped up her jacket, wondering what could possibly come next. And as the associate led her down the bare hallways of the facility, she was too scared to even imagine.

Xxx

Sherlock sat in his chair, sipping a cup of coffee that was not prepared to his liking.

Well, and to be precise, it wasn't _his_ chair.

But, it looked and felt like his chair back at Baker Street. The same could be said for the rest of the room. It was an exact replica of 221b, smiley face and Billy the Skull included. Of course, Sherlock was displeased when he checked the skull and discovered that it was made of plaster.

 _Why don't we value authenticity any longer?_

At any rate, Dr. Dawson and Mycroft explained that to best test the stimuli, they wanted to see how William would fare in Sherlock's normal living conditions. Thus, Mycroft's staff worked painstakingly long hours to create the replica.

Again, the fridge had actual food in it, so Sherlock was starting to wonder about the skill of said staff.

Sherlock set his coffee down and glanced over at his journal, where he had dutifully scribbled away exactly what activities and tests he was going to run with William. While he of course preferred to do things off the cuff and without a strict agenda, Mycroft and the morons in the lab coats dictated that a plan of action was necessary, especially given William's expected short lifespan.

And so, Sherlock thought back to William. His genetic copy. A successful instance of reproductive cloning.

But instead of excitement, he just felt dread.

He couldn't stop thinking about the filthy words that William had spewed out, with no care in the world for his audience or the meaning of the words. He had the audacity to kiss Molly!

Sherlock groaned and pulled at his curls. No. He refused to believe what Dr. Dawson had hypothesized. William was clearly just hormonal after creation, and picked Molly out because she had been the only female present.

It was the only logical explanation.

And then, a disembodied voice became audible, escaping the speakers along the corners of the wall.

" _Subject 36 is entering the premises. I repeat. Subject 36 is entering. Experiment may proceed."_

Sherlock took one last sip of coffee and rose to his feet, his eyes locked on his front-door-not-front-door as William entered, dressed in his white body suit, his curls subdued on his head.

 _Interesting. Already a nervous habit of playing with his hair._

"William," Sherlock began, moving towards his clone, "What a pleasure it is to see you again. I presume Dr. Dawson has been taking good care of you?"

William looked around the 'flat', his eyebrows quirked. "This looks like 221b Baker Street. But it is not 221b Baker Street."

"Clever you are, William." Sherlock actually smiled.

William moved around the space, looking around the kitchen and sitting area. "Where is Molly? I was told she would be in here."

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Dr. Hooper may join us later, but for now, we agreed that it would be best for us to chat. Get to know each other."

With a few steps forward, William dropped to Sherlock's chair, his face contorted in displeasure. "Who is we? And I know everything about you."

Sherlock ignored the rage bubbling in his gut from seeing someone in his chair and took a deep breath. "Dr. Dawson and—"

William laughed, cutting him off. "Oh, I see. You're referring to the ignorant prats that are babysitting me. Well, I disagree. What I want, and what I will have, is Molly."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, growing increasingly frustrated with the attitude of William.

 _Christ, if this is how I am on a daily basis, I do actually pity John._

"William," Sherlock began again, careful of his words, "Why are you so fixated on Molly?"

The clone snorted. "Do I have to group you in with the ignorant prats as well, Sherlock? You of all people must know why."

"No, I don't William. Hence my question."

That got William to smirk. "Oh, you know exactly what my intentions are. Are you forgetting the week of wet dreams you had after walking in on her changing? Or the tea cups you blew up when she went on that date with the postman?"

Sherlock cleared his throat, his gaze angry. "I don't know—"

William jumped to his feet and approached Sherlock. "You know exactly what I'm speaking of. You're clever, Sherlock. Why pretend that you aren't attracted to her? Why not indulge in something filthy for once?"

Sherlock scoffed and narrowed his gaze. "We have different definitions of—"

"No, we don't. We're the same person, are we not? When I tell people that I want to feel her quiver on my tongue and pump my cock in her so hard that she can't walk the next day, I'm only expressing what's been running through your head since day one."

Sherlock growled and took a step towards William. "I suggest you stop the lewd language and abandon your pursuit of Molly. I forbid it."

William smirked. "That's too bad, Sherlock. Because while I'm here, I have one goal in mind."

He strolled towards the kitchen, his strut as arrogant and confident as Sherlock's.

"I'm going to finally take what you've always wanted. And then I'm going to take it again, and again, and again. We're going to fuck like animals. Like a primitive fucking species that can only feel."

And then, to Sherlock's dread, Molly entered, examining the space with her mouth agape.

"Oh, wow! This looks exactly like Baker Street." She looked over to Sherlock and William, nibbling on her lip at the sight of the men.

Unbeknownst to her, the men reacted the same way. A shifting of their weight from their left to right foot, a silent, yet shuttering breath, and eyes locked on her cute little mouth.

And again, to Sherlock's dread, William was so much more adept at these things than him, and he found himself alone as the man literally pounced on her.

William stood flush to Molly, looking down at her with a charming grin. "Did you come to see me, Molly?"

She couldn't help but blush at his proximity and that sexy smile he sent her way. "Well, I—Dr. Dawson just recommended that I enter."

"We were just talking about you," William whispered, still holding that sexy grin. He reached forward and brushed some of her hair back, moving his face closer to hers in the process. Then, like a man addicted, he inhaled her scent and moaned.

Molly squeaked and blushed harder, shifting her gaze back and forth between William and Sherlock. "Um… You were talking about me? Why? Should I go?"

"No," William hurried out, "I have other plans."

And then, to Sherlock's mortification, his clone once again captured Molly's lips in a kiss. And perhaps to both his dread and relief, Molly returned the kiss eagerly, melting in the clones' arms.

Sherlock stood rigidly still, watching their lips and tongues tangle. His sharp gaze caught everything—the way Molly leaned into his kiss, the way her fingers danced in the hairs on the back of his neck, the way her own wavy locks slipped from their elastic holder.

He noticed the way her eyes fluttered shut, the way she moved to her tippy toes to better reach him, the way she let out soft sighs every time they moved their heads.

His hands curled into fists, but he found himself unable to look away, unable to block out the vivid image of Molly being passionately kissed by another man. But…

Truthfully, he had about a thousand feelings running through his brain, heart, and cock, most of them conflicting.

Was he jealous because another man was kissing Molly? Was he thrilled to see that Molly still held some attraction to him, enough to engage in a bit of snogging with his genetic copy? Was he angry that his bloody clone beat him to the chase?

But more than that… why in god's name did his trousers feel tighter?

When he finally decided that he was going to pull the two apart, William yet again beat him to it, separating his mouth from Molly, only to turn and give Sherlock the most mischievous, arrogant grin he could muster.

"I didn't take you for a voyeur, Sherlock. If you aren't going to join, I suggest you leave."

Molly squeaked and desperately looked away from the men, focusing intently on her very white trainers. Sherlock met William's blue gaze, troubled by the feeling of essentially looking into his own eyes.

And so, Sherlock did just that, storming out of the replicated flat and down the sterile, white hallways. William placed his finger under Molly's chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. He gave her a soft smile.

"May I cook for you?" He asked, his eyes swimming with warmth and love.

Molly swallowed and forced herself to nod. At her response, William took her hand and led her into the kitchen, humming a tune that Molly once recalled Sherlock playing on his violin.

 _This has to be a dream. There is no way this is actually happening._

He began to grab ingredients from the fridge, looking up at Molly every so often. "You fancy pasta, right? Chicken alfredo is your favorite?"

She just nodded, mouth agape. "How did—"

"It's what you order from Angelo's whenever you go out with Sherlock. I know everything he knows. I'm just not a pussy."

She blinked, mouth still wide open.

 _Close that before you catch flies, Molly! Remember what mum always said!_

She swallowed and bit her lip. "Come again?"

He laughed and began to season a couple of chicken breasts. "Sherlock is afraid of expressing his feelings to you. I, however, am not."

Her face turned an ungodly shade of red. "What? Don't be ridiculous. Sherlock doesn't have feelings for me. He's—" She sighed and began to play with the rings on her fingers, "Believe me, he's made that explicitly clear on many occasions."

William, who had just finished washing his hands, leaned across the table. He again propped her chin up, a soft smile playing on his lips. "And believe me, love, he does. I'm him and he's me. I know what he's feeling better than anyone else."

Molly clearly didn't believe him and looked away from his gaze. He gave her a chaste kiss and reached his hand across the table, resting it on her hip. And then, with another naughty grin across his lips, he squeezed her side, causing her to let out a squeal.

"I know you don't believe me," He began, now in the process of starting their sauce, "But I'll prove it to you. I only have a short period of time here. I might as well do some good."

He turned back around to give her a smoldering look, "But, let me be clear. I will also be selfish and take what I want."

Molly felt her throat go dry. "Which is?"

He smirked and returned his focus to his preparations. "You. All of you. Cumming all over my cock, just like the sexy little minx you are."

 _Just pinch me now._

Xxx

Sherlock stormed into a small room, encountering Mycroft, Dr. Dawson, and another two dim-witted hooligans in lab coats. They were snacking on a ridiculously expensive looking arrangement of pastries, watching the inside of his 'flat' on a large monitor.

He looked at the screen and tensed. The image looked so domestic. William was cooking, speaking to Molly over his shoulder. She was handing him ingredients, as always, blushing at the words of a man. He couldn't help but scowl.

Mycroft finally acknowledged his brother's presence, taking the good graces to dust off a few crumbs from his croissant off his trousers. "Sherlock. This is Dr.—"

He scowled. "Don't care. I want Molly removed from our experiment. Send her home."

One of the new doctors sat up, holding his clipboard into the air. He pointed out a timetable with a resolute look on his face. "Absolutely not. We have a set—"

Sherlock stormed forward and grabbed the man's collar, his eyes angry. "I said to remove her. Was I not clear enough for you?"

Mycroft sighed, causing Sherlock to drop the man and turn to meet his brother's gaze. His older brother gave him a knowing look.

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Sherlock."

"And why the bloody fuck can you not?"

"Because we finally have a chance to see how a reproductive clone copulates!" Dr. Dawson announced, rising to his feet to meet Sherlock's gaze, "And we will not have you stand in the way."

Sherlock blinked a few times, letting himself register the words. He took a step closer to Dr. Dawson. "Repeat that. And I suggest you amuse me and pretend you said something else."

Mycroft flicked the back of Sherlock's head. "Enough. You heard Dr. Dawson quite clearly. Both William and Molly show sexual interest in each other. We now have the opportunity to see how a genetic copy engages in sexual intercourse and well… We will not cease this bit of our experiment simply because you're jealous."

Sherlock let out a hoarse laugh. "I'm sorry. Let me make sure I understand. You're going to let them have sex? And who's going to evaluate the activity? You think Molly is going to let four horny middle-aged men watch her have intercourse? You think I'm going to allow you to watch my genetic copy have intercourse?"

"Well, actually, when you signed away your DNA—" Dr. Dawson stopped speaking at Sherlock's murderous gaze.

Mycroft offered his brother a polite smile. "Why, Sherlock, that's where you come in."

Sherlock let his gaze shift from the quivering Dr. Dawson to his brother. He raised an eyebrow, an unamused smile gracing his lips. "Tell me, dear brother, how do I come in?"

"You will be the one conducting the experiment. That is to say… you will be monitoring the activity itself." Mycroft picked up one of the clipboards, "You know, answering the questions, evaluating the performance, that sort of thing."

He studied his younger brother, rather amused with the situation. "Considering your concerns—their privacy—it seems that only you would be appropriate to facilitate the exercise. You know, given that it's your genetic copy that she will be having intercourse with."

Sherlock felt the color drain from his face. "Absolutely not."

"Why does it matter? It's just two animals mating, isn't it?" Mycroft asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

Sherlock scowled. "I did not sign up for this!"

Dr. Dawson again piped in, "Well, actually the contract you signed stipulated—"

"ENOUGH!" Sherlock bellowed, his eyes still trained on his older brother. "Molly would never agree to this. This discussion is over."

"Actually," Dr. Dawson began, his voice just a squeak, "She did."

Sherlock blinked a few times, registering the fat little doctor's words. "Excuse me?"

"She had to sign a ton of paperwork. We… Discussed the topic of sexual intercourse with the subject," Dr. Dawson began, his cheeks red, "We had to make amendments to our original contract. These are customary provisions whenever we have someone interact with a subject. You would have signed a page on romantic involvement if he were not your own genetic copy."

Sherlock continued to blink, fearing his brain would drag him in for another ill-placed buffering section. "What exactly did she agree to?" He hissed out.

Dr. Dawson cleared his throat. "It was decided that, in the event of an activity that were sexual in nature, only you would be able to review the footage to fulfill our scientific inquiry."

Sherlock ran his hands through his curls, unbelieving of the words. "In the event of. She's simply… preparing for anything. She will not be engaging in sexual intercourse with William."

He nodded vigorously, satisfied with his own words.

Molly would not be fucking him. He would make sure of it.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," The previously silent third doctor announced, his eyes still locked on the screen.

Sherlock looked back to the screen, his hands shaking at the image.

His Molly was sprawled across the kitchen island, William between her legs, their mouths again entangled in a furious kiss.

Mycroft placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "It shouldn't matter," He whispered into his baby brother's ear, "It's all for science, isn't it? Just another one of your experiments."

Sherlock continued to watch the couple snogging like hormonal teenagers, his hands again clenched into fists. He let his gaze travel to his brother, who had grabbed another croissant, to the trio of stupid scientists, who were scribbling away on their clipboards. He looked back at the screen once more, his stomach dropping.

 _What have I done?_

 **To be continued…**


	3. The Troubling Twosome

**NOTE: This is dirty. Like really, extremely dirty. I mean, I said upfront that there would be a threesome so... You are warned! If that's not your thing, then I suggest you don't read :) Enjoy!**

They were kissing again.

His lips were soft, and supple, and tender, yet so aggressively hungry that Molly thought she'd pass out from the way he was snogging her. Yes, William had been incredibly flirty thus far, and of course they had exchanged a few kisses, but she certainly didn't think she'd be sprawled across the kitchen island, having the oxygen sucked out of her.

But, she wasn't complaining. His kisses were exactly what she would expect from Sherlock. Hard, and angry, and desperate, yet so knowledgeable about the way to set her body on fire.

Except she wasn't snogging Sherlock. She was snogging William. Or rather, William was snogging her. Because he was certainly in control. From the way his hands traveled up and down her skin, to his hips between her open legs, to his hot mouth…

He was most definitely calling the shots.

She couldn't help but moan into his mouth as he hauled her body up, her bum now flat on the countertop. He pressed his body into her open legs, causing her to let out a squeak at the feeling of his hard cock through his trousers. His mouth finally deserted hers, now devoting hungry kisses to her neck.

Molly shut her eyes and threw her head back, her hands holding onto the collar of William's shirt, wondering if she was going to burn in hell. What were the laws for this sort of thing? She was becoming a bloody lab experiment!

 _You're a part of this now. You signed your name on the dotted line, Molly._

At her tensing, William ran his nose up her neck, before pulling away to meet her gaze. His dilated blue eyes, a look she had only ever dreamed of seeing on Sherlock's face, made her gasp.

"You're thinking too hard," he told her, his voice deliciously hoarse, "Stop using your brain. Use your body."

She swallowed and couldn't help but run her hands into his hair, enjoying the feel of the soft curls between her fingers. "It's not that simple," she whispered back.

William laughed and slid his hands from her hips to her stomach, his thumbs rubbing the exposed skin of her midsection in soft circles. He moved closer and dropped his mouth to her ear, his tongue quick to dart out and lick the edge. Her soft gasp resulted in a signature Sherlock smirk on his lips.

"It definitely is, Molly. I want you. You want me. Let's indulge." His lips began a torturous descent down her neck, ending with scattered kisses across her chest and collar bone, "I'll be the best fuck of your life."

Molly let out a strained laugh, somewhere between a cry of pain and moan. "You're quite sure of yourself, aren't you?"

He just smirked, his curls falling into his eyes. "I _am_ a genetic copy of Sherlock."

 _Sherlock._

She cursed and shut her eyes. How could she be doing this?

 _Is this even real? I'm dead, aren't I? I'm laying in the middle of Tottenham Court Road, having my eyes pecked out by a couple of pigeons. Or, Sherlock's already running an experiment on my heart and liver._

She forced her eyes open, meeting the sultry aqua stare of William. His hands had run up to her chest, and were busy rubbing the skin right below her breast. She cursed.

There was no way she could deny herself this. She was pushing her mid-thirties, desperately in love with a man who wanted little more from her than to share his outlandish stories, donate body parts, and fetch him coffee. She had risked her life and career to save his.

Could she have this one thing? Would she be taking advantage of a dear friend by shagging the brains out of his genetic clone?

She dared her eyes to dart down to the tent in his trousers. At the sight of the large bulge, she let out a defeated sigh.

 _Yeah. I'm going to do this. And I'm going to have a bloody good time while I do._

She moved her hands from his curls to his cheeks and pulled his face to hers, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. With a shuttering sigh, she let the words escape her trembling lips.

"Take what you want, William. I want to cum on your cock."

Xxx

" _Take what you want, William. I want to cum on your cock."_

The silence of the observatory was deafening. Sherlock stared at the screen, a white-hot heat moving from his ears down the rest of his form. His hands began to shake, his breathing erratic, his eyes frantically watching the screen as William hauled Molly into his arms and pressed her lithe body into the wall.

The sound of shuffling and soft mutters distracted him from the activities on the screen. He glanced over at the trio of doctors and Mycroft, who had risen to their feet. Sherlock felt his stomach drop.

"What are you doing? Where are you doing?" He spat out, a panicking sensation taking a hold of his chest, forcing him to hold onto the table for balance.

Dr. Dawson cleared his throat, his pudgy cheeks red. "We believe that the subject and Dr. Hooper are about to engage in sexual intercourse. So, per our discussion, we will not be monitoring the activity to maintain the subject's privacy."

Mycroft couldn't help but smirk as he set a clipboard down on the table. "Please be detailed, Sherlock. Our experiment depends on you."

Before Sherlock could let out a snarky reply, the four men disappeared, leaving Sherlock alone in the cold room. He glanced down at the clipboard and began to flip through the pages. While the first points were rather rudimentary, asking for his beginning and ending heart rate, the remainder had Sherlock practically crumbling the sheet.

 _Duration of activity until orgasm? Number of orgasms for subject? Number of orgasms for partner?_

He growled and glanced back at the screen, watching as William pulled Molly's top off, exposing her bra-covered chest to the world. At the sight of her lacy, pink number, he actually growled.

"This is ridiculous," he spat out, to no one (although his brain had inserted John into the room), "She's in love with me. Why engage in intercourse with a copy when the real one exists?"

" _Because mate_ ," Mind palace John began, his eyes playful, " _You haven't exactly welcomed her affections, now have you_?"

Sherlock hissed. "Get out! You're not helpful!"

He crossed his arms and looked back to the screen, his fists clenching at the sight of Molly pressing kisses down William's exposed chest. His chest tingled, as if he could almost feel the soft caresses of her lips down his body…

"Alright, Molly," He spat out, rising to his feet, "If you want to come on anyone's cock, it's going to be the real thing."

He grabbed the clipboard and disappeared down the hallway.

Xxx

Somehow, they had made their way to the sofa in the fake 221b, Molly straddling his toned body. She couldn't help but run her hands up and down his arms and chest, amazed by how Sherlock, a man who ate so little, could have such an impressive body.

 _Not Sherlock. This is William._

She scowled at her brain and moaned when William's lips met hers again. He had stripped her down to just her knickers and bra, himself in just the white pants he had been created in. She pulled at his curls when his lips moved down her neck to her chest, whimpering when his warm tongue dipped to the space between her breasts.

 _Sherlock thought they were small but William sure loves them._

Her hips began a torturous grind against his body, squealing every time her desperate center brushed against his enclosed by very engorged cock. To say that Molly was excited to see his cock was an understatement. She had dreamed of fucking Sherlock for much longer than she was proud to admit, and to finally hold his hard cock in her hand would be a dream come true.

 _Again, not Sherlock. This is William._

"Does that feel good, Molly?" He whispered, his voice rough, "It's going to feel a lot better when I fill you up. You want to feel your little pussy stretched apart?"

She let out a cry and grinded into him harder, her hands moving back to his soft curls. "Please. I want that!" She cried out, continuing to rock against him.

"Well, this is fun."

His voice sent chills down her spine, causing her to tense in William's arms. William wrapped his arms around her tighter and sent daggers towards the intruder.

"Sherlock. What a surprise. Can I help you?" William asked, his tone mimicking the same arrogance of Sherlock on any given day.

Sherlock watched with angry eyes, his nostrils flaring, as William continued to place soft kisses down the curve of Molly's neck. He held Sherlock's gaze, his eyes smirking at the man across from him.

"I've been sent to supervise," Sherlock barked out, taking a step towards the embracing couple, "So, I'll do my job with a front row seat."

He dropped into his chair, his eyes boring into William's identical blue gaze, unspoken words filtering through the air like dust. Molly glanced over at Sherlock, her cheeks bright red, unbelieving of the situation.

There was absolutely no way she was going to shag William as Sherlock watched. Sure, that's what she agreed to, but that was simply to protect herself—

And then William was kissing her again, and she could no longer think, the feeling of his hands and lips all over her body. She felt herself being tossed across the sofa, her knickers being ripped off in the process. She was aware of two sets of eyes staring at her, admiring her body like it was a work of art.

She had barely processed the feeling of her legs being pushed open before a warm, wet tongue had snaked between, lapping at her most personal place like a starving man. She let out a strangled cry, pulling at his curls, her body rising and falling from the surface of the sofa.

Sherlock watched from his chair, his eyes locked on Molly's still covered chest, to her toned legs, spread apart to give his genetic clone a taste. He could not tear his eyes away, nor could he stop the tightening of his trousers as he watched the ordeal.

William peeked his head out from between Molly's legs, offering Sherlock a smirk. He pressed a soft kiss to her lower lips, although his eyes were locked on his donor.

"Say, Sherlock, you see how wet she is? How ready she is for me?" He pushed one of her legs up, exposing her dewy, pink center to Sherlock's devoted gaze.

Sherlock swallowed, his eyes locked on the image in front of him. He shifted in his chair, his voice caught in his throat, as his eyes landed on Molly's lustful gaze. William had returned his mouth to her skin, his tongue pushing in and out as his thumb pressed to her clit.

As Molly let out soft gasps and moans, pulling at William's curls, Sherlock rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, refusing to look away. Finally, the ability to speak returned to his paralyzed form.

"Is that the best you got?" He found himself asking, his eyes to still locked to Molly's withering form and William's persistent tonguing.

William looked up, his thumb continuing to play with Molly's hardened nub. "We're just getting started," He replied, before returning his oral assault to her exposed skin.

Sherlock swallowed and rose to his feet, taking uncertain steps towards the couple. "That's a weak excuse for an ill-performed job. Why hasn't she orgasmed yet?" He barked out, his hands shaking.

Molly swallowed and met his gaze, letting out another hoarse cry at the sight of Sherlock's fiery eyes and the feel of William's unrelenting tongue between her legs. She made another desperate pull at his curls, continuing to watch Sherlock, her mouth agape.

"Oh god," She gasped out, her legs wiggling, "I must be dreaming. This isn't happening."

Sherlock scoffed. "Oh, my Molly," he whispered, leaning forward to run his hand down her smooth stomach, "If you were dreaming, I presume that William would have gotten you to orgasm by now."

William growled and gazed up at Sherlock, his eyes issuing a challenge. "If I can't do it, what makes you certain you can?"

With a snort, Sherlock dropped to the ground, leaning over the sofa with a determined look across his face. "Simple. I'm me. While you will exceed the skill and intelligence of an average man, that will not be the case when put next to me. I am your superior in everything."

A taunting smile grew on William's lips. He rose from the sofa and stared at his donor.

"Prove it."

Molly looked between the men, her eyes hazy, her entire body humming. Deciding that she couldn't wait, she slid her hand down to her spread legs, and began to touch the sensitive skin. When she let out a soft cry, both men immediately turned to look at her.

The sight of two Sherlocks, two heads full of dark curly hair and bright blue eyes, staring back at her, caused another desperate cry to escape her lips. William smirked and leaned over, capturing her lips with his own. Molly moaned into his mouth, pulling at the curls, inexplicably turned on by the taste of herself in his mouth.

And then, she felt a sensation so surreal, so impossible, that she was immediately convinced she was either dreaming or dead. Because, as William pressed soft kisses to her chest, another curly head was buried between her legs, lapping at her core like a parched man in the middle of the desert.

"Sherlock!" She practically sobbed out, quick to reach down and grab a handful of curly hair, "Oh my god," she continued to cry out.

William just chuckled and forced her bra down her body, capturing a pink nipple between his lips. Sherlock, meanwhile, continued his oral assault, his tongue and fingers working in a desperate fury. He pushed her legs further apart and pushed a finger inside.

"Oh, fuck," she cried out, forcing her eyes open to gaze down her body.

And at the sight of two mischievous sets of blue eyes staring back at her, she let out a hoarse scream, her body shaking as her orgasm hit her. Sherlock continued to rub at her clit with one hand, two fingers on his other hand moving in and out of her clenching form.

William kissed back up to capture her lips, his hands holding her perfectly sized chest, as his fingers flicking and pulling at the erect nipples. As her convulsions stopped, she let out another cry and collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the two sets of blue eyes.

"That's how you make a woman orgasm," Sherlock explained, his fingers still rubbing gently at Molly's aroused core, "Although, I don't blame you for failing. You're young."

"But eager," William retorted, rising to his feet.

Molly whimpered, staring at William's tented pants, the hardened cock at her eye level. She gazed over to Sherlock, who was watching her. Moving her hands to her sides, she forced herself to sit up, her gaze shifting between the two men—a practically naked William, and an entirely clothed Sherlock.

"Jesus," She whispered, immediately swallowing any disbelief in her situation. She simply crawled towards Sherlock and began to unbutton his shirt.

He watched her with unreadable eyes. "Molly…"

"Shh." Was all she offered, before pushing the top down his shoulders. She made quick work of his belt and trousers, until he stood wearing just a pair of black, silk pants.

She looked back to the white-panted William, and the black-panted Sherlock, both shirtless and clearly aroused. She swallowed again and rose to her feet, her gaze continuously moving between the men.

"I have to be dead. Or dreaming. Or reading a really raunchy romance novel," she managed out, her hands practically shaking.

William smirked and took a step forward, running his hand down Molly's cheek. "You're awake, Molly. And we can continue our fun. With Sherlock, if he so pleases."

Molly swallowed and glanced over at Sherlock, who was intently watching her interact with his genetic copy. She took a shaky breath and bit her lip. "Sherlock, you don't have—"

Sherlock took a step forward, his eyes locked on her chocolate orbs. "If you're going to cum on anyone's cock, it's going to be mine."

The noise she let out was somewhere between a squeak and a sob. Unwilling to even consider his words, she shut her eyes and just let sensation take over.

 _Yup. Definitely dead._

When a soft pair of lips met her mouth, she immediately knew it was Sherlock. His touch was gentle, attentive, and lit every inch of her body on fire. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and she let out a pathetic moan, moving closer to his hardened body. William, meanwhile, had pressed against Molly's back, and had one hand toying with her breasts, the other back between her legs.

The intense kiss continued, weakening Molly's legs by the second. Her hands slid down to Sherlock's bare chest while his had migrated up to her face, cupping her cheeks in a far too intimate way for their current setting. William began to trail kisses down her exposed neck and his hands continued their palming of her perfect chest.

"How does this feel, Molly?" William whispered, his fingers pinching and twisting her delicate nipples, causing her to cry out into her kiss.

Molly whimpered and pulled away from Sherlock's kiss, forcing herself to meet his intense gaze. His dark blue eyes were just as dilated as her own. She was absolutely paralyzed. She could do nothing but stare at him, listening to William's filthy words.

"You want to fuck both of us?" He asked, one hand now traveling down her stomach to rest between her legs, "You want to suck my cock while Sherlock fucks you?"

His words caused her to shake, her legs almost giving out at his question. Sherlock kept his eyes locked on hers, his face as always, telling her nothing. When William began to press more kisses down her neck, she felt a burst of confidence.

With a deep breath, she spread her arms, pushing one hand behind her to rest on William's thigh, the other to in front of her, where it rested on Sherlock's stomach. She met his aqua gaze again, before squeezing his length through the barrier of the fabric. She did the same to the man behind her, letting out a soft moan at their purrs of pleasure.

 _Deep breathes, Molly. This is like Uni, right?_

She let out a pathetic laugh and threw her head back, resting it on William's shoulder. Then, with the flexibility of someone ten years younger than herself, she began to push both of their pants down, a shy smile across her lips.

 _Not like Uni. At least not like your Uni experience._

She stepped away from the men, giving her a chance to admire their forms. Their perfectly shaped, perfectly toned, very identical forms. And again, the sight of two curly-haired devils with bright blue eyes staring back at her made her almost orgasm on the spot.

They caged her in, forcing her to breath in only their deliciously spicy scent. She let her eyes gaze between the two, lost in the haughty grin of William, and the stone-cold expression painted across Sherlock's face. With one last swallow, she reached her hands forward and grabbed both of their cocks.

 _How is it possible for him to be so perfect?_

And perfect he was. Or, rather, they were. She had spent an embarrassingly long period of time fantasizing about Sherlock's cock, wondering how thick he was and what he'd feel like filling her up. And just like a dream, she was staring at the most beautiful dick she had ever seen.

 _Multiply that by two._

She wrapped her hands around both of their shafts, giving the heated skin a squeeze. She swallowed and took a deep breath, willing herself to be the bold, sexy woman she had always wanted to be. Deciding that she enjoyed making Sherlock angry, she leaned over and gave William a kiss, beginning to move both of her hands in a steady stroking motion.

William groaned and immediately returned her kiss with enthusiasm. He ran a hand through her hair and used his other to grip her chin, pulling her face even closer to his own. Sherlock watched the two with hazy eyes. He put his hand over Molly's, joining her stroking of his member.

He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her hair, his lips hovering over her ear. "You never answered William," He whispered, his voice plastering goose bumps across her body, "Shall I fuck you while you suck his cock?"

His hands ran to the front of her body, capturing her breasts. He kissed the top of her head, watching as she pulled away from William's kiss. When their eyes met, Sherlock couldn't help but smirk.

 _He's going to kill me. They're going to kill me. Unless I'm already dead. That's possible too._

Molly looked between both men and swallowed. She knew what she wanted. She knew what they wanted. And by god, she was most certainly ready. She looked back to Sherlock, the man she had loved for years upon years, and gave him a sexiest smile she could muster.

"I was promised cumming on someone's cock," She replied, nibbling on her lip, "I'm getting antsy."

She gave both of their cocks another ambitious squeeze. "Someone better fuck me or I'll do it myself."

Sherlock looked over to William, who just watched him with mischievous eyes. He growled and took a step forward. "On the sofa" He barked.

Molly nodded quickly and dropped to the surface, her hands rubbing nervously along her thighs. Sherlock settled between her legs, pulling them into the air, exposing her wet center to the cool air. She let out a soft cry as his thumb pressed against her clit.

"I'm going to fuck you now. And then you're going to cum on my cock. Do we have an understanding, Molly?" He whispered, his fingers now dipping in and out of her wet heat.

She let out a desperate cry and nodded, her eyes flicking between Sherlock's aroused gaze and William's amused eyes. And then, giving her only a chance for one deep breath, Sherlock pushed into her, filling her inch by glorious inch.

Oxygen escaped her. The feeling of Sherlock inside her was indescribable. It was something she imagined only happened in films. William nudged forward and brushed some of her hair back from her face, grinning. Then, with little grace, he pushed his cock towards her mouth. She immediately invited it inside, moaning onto the thick appendage as Sherlock began to move.

 _A film? More like a bloody porno, Molly._

She wrapped her hand around William's cock and groaned as it was pushed deeper into her mouth. She met his gaze, gasping at the intensity shining through. Sherlock's grunts were music to her ears, his fingers continuing to dig into her hips, his own roughly pounding against her.

Because that's what his fucking was like. Delicious, glorious, savage smacks of skin upon skin. His cock continued to pummel in and out of her lithe frame, her legs wrapping around his waist in a chokehold so deliriously intimate that it made her woozy.

She moaned onto William's cock, her tongue dancing around the head, her eyes now watching Sherlock's movements. He met her gaze and growled, his eyes shifting between her chocolate orbs and the actions of her strawberry lips. He moved a hand to the crevice between her legs and began to rub her clit.

"Oh, Molly," He hissed out, his hips continuing their fierce movements, his thumb working aggressively at her nub, "You are marvelous."

William groaned and ran his fingers through her hair. He looked towards Sherlock and smirked, before back to Molly. "Indeed, you are, Dr. Hooper. You look fucking edible with my cock down your throat."

He pulled her by her hair, forcing her to meet his gaze. She groaned onto his cock and continued to suck, her tongue dancing around the hardened skin. He let out a low growl, mimicking Sherlock's previous noises.

"You like this, don't you? You like being fucked by two of us," He tugged at her hair again before letting go, watching with glee as she pulled away momentarily, coughing when his thick shift escaped her lips and danced in front of her.

She wet her lips and wrapped her hand around him, beginning to stroke the velvet skin. She met his gaze and let out a squeal as Sherlock captured one of her nipples between his lips.

"Yes," She gasped out, her second hand joining her first, her eyes locked on William's blue gaze, "I like fucking both of you."

Sherlock grunted and hauled her body into his arms, taking only a moment to flip her over, forcing her on her hands and knees, her backside exposed to his hungry gaze. He ran his thumb down her drenched slit, before once again pushing inside of her. She let out another desperate cry and welcomed William's waiting cock back between his lips.

William smirked and tugged at her hair once again. He made eye contact with Sherlock before looking down at Molly, who continued happily lapping away at his cock. He groaned and pulled at one of her nipples, enchanted by the minx in front of him.

"You're naughty, Dr. Hooper," He moaned out, his hands now playing with perfectly-sized chest, "And I can't wait to watch you cum on Sherlock's cock. Will you do that for me?"

He pressed a chaste kiss to her head, watching as Sherlock slid his hand between her legs, once again rubbing her delicate skin as he fucked her. Sherlock began to move faster, his movements growing erratic as his orgasm neared him.

"That's it, Molly," William cooed, pulling at her hair as she let out a desperate cry, her body thrashing backwards against Sherlock.

She pulled away from William and dropped her head, letting out a throaty scream as her orgasm pierced through her. Her body was momentarily paralyzed as her body shook from the unfamiliar pleasure. She let out another hoarse sob as Sherlock's movements quickened, his breath hitching in his throat.

She reached forward and accepted William's cock once more, taking the shaft with a renewed enthusiasm. With only a few moments more, Sherlock let out a guttural cry and pulled out of her body, exploding onto her back with a passionate curse.

Molly moaned at the feeling and met William's gaze, her eyes playful. She hiccupped and released him, moving to her feet. She turned to Sherlock and smiled softly, her heart beating hard from her previous orgasm and his look of admiration. She wrapped her hand around William's cock, and did the same to Sherlock's deflating shaft.

"Your turn," She whispered to William, her eyes dancing in the light.

William growled and dropped to the sofa, moving Molly onto his lap. He pressed his face into her hair and lowered her onto his cock, letting out an expletive as he entered her warmth. Molly moaned and watched as Sherlock approached her.

As William helped her move up and down, Sherlock pressed a soft kiss to her lips. He sat beside the couple on the sofa and began to gently caress her chest with one hand, the other moving to her face to cradle her cheek.

Molly whimpered and deepened the kiss, bringing a hand to pull at his soft curls. She pushed her feet into the sofa, desperate for balance as she met every one of William's eager thrusts. And between Sherlock's sensual kisses, and William's enthusiastic driving of his hips, she was already close to another orgasm.

 _I'm in heaven. I must be._

Sherlock kissed down her neck to her chest and captured a dusty pink nipple between his lips. At the same time, one of his hands slid down to her stomach, beginning to again play with her excited nub of pleasure. He met her gaze and grunted.

"Sherlock…" She moaned out, her eyes dropping to his already hardening cock, "Let me taste you. Please."

He moaned and rose to his feet, immediately cursing as Molly's warm mouth enveloped his cock. She began to eagerly swallow the shaft, squealing onto the skin at every one of William's thrusts. William groaned and kissed her jaw, quickening his pace.

"That's it, Molly. Be a good girl and suck his cock. Make Sherlock feel good again. Then we'll make you feel good," William hissed out, his tongue running down the damp skin of her collarbone.

Molly gasped onto Sherlock's cock and continued to move her hips, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Her body was working on muscle memory, devoted only to making the two men feel good. Her brain was no longer functioning. It was controlled only by the promise of pleasure.

Sherlock growled and pushed into her mouth, continuing to watch her delicious lips stretch to accommodate his girth. He tilted his head back and let out a throaty moan, knowing he was already close to another orgasm.

And then, one after another, their climaxes descended. Molly let out an erotic scream, her head falling back to rest on William's shoulder. The delicious tightening and spasms of her cunt pulled William over the edge, causing him to let out a raw cry, his body shaking from the sensation.

The image was too much for Sherlock, who let out a frantic howl. His cock bounced excitedly, covering Molly's chest in a scene so lewd that the view would forever be engrained in his mind palace, buried away in a section labeled for only the loneliest of evenings.

Sherlock collapsed back on the sofa, joining the other two in a jumble of sweaty skin, limbs, and labored breaths. Molly let out another content moan and ran her hand through her hair, her fingers jerking as they hit each and every knot.

William just hummed in satisfaction, a grin splayed across his lips. "Well," he began, his eyes glancing over to Sherlock, "I reckon you did much more than supervise."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked to Molly. When she met his gaze, she blushed and moved off William, moaning softly as the sticky fluids began to run down her thighs. She settled between both men, her body continuing to hum in absolute satisfaction.

"If I was going to share her, it was going to be with myself," Sherlock began, his hand moving between her legs to gently rub at the sensitive skin, uncaring of the mess, "I dare say we did well."

Molly let out a soft moan and nodded, glancing between the two men, "That was… I've never…"

Instead of finishing, she just let out another moan and rested her head on Sherlock's shoulder, content on simply basking in the afterglow. William smirked and kissed her head.

"Speechless, is she? Then we have a job well done."

Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle. He rose to his feet, lifting Molly into his arms. "I'm going to help her wash up," He pointed to the clipboard he had discarded upon entering the room, "Now, since you're so _clever_ , fill out that information."

He shuffled down the hall and into the bathroom, setting Molly down on the sink's counter. He turned the water on and turned to look at her. She bit her lip and looked down.

"Molly. There's no need to be shy. I would say we're far pass that now, wouldn't you agree?"

She blushed and nodded. "Right. It's just… That was…"

"I'm aware. So, you've said. I'm sure you have many questions."

She cleared her throat. "Many. Was this just…"

"No." He quickly jumped in, his eyes darting away before back to her eyes, "I realized recently that I care about you. Very much so. And very much in a non-friend way."

"Oh?" She whispered, leaning forward to wrap her arms around his neck, "Then how so?"

He swallowed and met her gaze, "In a manner that would allow us to have intercourse again. And watch crappy telly together. And perhaps one that would see you moving into Baker Street."

She grinned and gave him a chaste kiss, her eyes sparkling. "I would love that," she whispered, "You know how I feel about you."

He tensed and couldn't help but look down. "Yes. I'm afraid I needed William's presence to help me realize how I felt."

"That's okay," She began, "I enjoyed his presence too."

Sherlock couldn't help but laugh. He lowered her into the bath and smiled. "That was rather…"

"Dirty." She finished for him, her cheeks bright red.

He coughed and nodded, beginning to cover her body in sudsy water, "Quite pornographic."

"Let's do it again."

Sherlock blinked and met her chocolate eyes. He swallowed and nodded.

"Yes. I think I'd like that very much."

Xxx

Approximately two weeks later, Molly was led back to the examination room, her body deliciously sore from another explicit evening between herself, Sherlock, and William. The past weeks had been incredibly naughty—the days began with the standard experiments and tests, and they ended with sordid nights of pleasure across every inch of the fake 221b.

But, the two weeks had come to an end, and Molly needed to return to the real world. Sherlock, in addition, had a mission to complete. He had a whistleblower to track down, and a mystery to be solved.

She strolled into the white room and looked to William, who was currently running on a treadmill. Sticking to the very creepy, very sterile, sci-fi theme, the poor man was clad in all white attire. Molly couldn't help but admire the way his muscles flexed as he ran, reminding her of the previous evening.

She let out a shiver of delight as she recalled riding Sherlock unabashedly when William lowered himself and began to lick at her oversensitive core. She bit her lip, desperate not to moan as the other man came up behind her, placing his hand on the small of her back.

"How is he looking?" Sherlock asked, watching as William's speed was turned up.

Mycroft walked over, Dr. Dawson to his left. The pudgy man grinned.

"Oh, he looks incredible! At the two-week mark, Subject 35 had a notorious decline in health. Subject 36 however, is still at his peak. We look forward to more time with him."

Sherlock nodded and pulled Molly closer. "We would like to visit him. Treat him well or I will know."

Dr. Dawson nodded. "Of course. We have many tests in store. He's in capable hands."

He strolled off, leaving Sherlock, Molly, and Mycroft. Sherlock turned to his brother.

"I presume you have a plan in order."

Mycroft gave him a curt nod. "Indeed. Should he… surpass the five-week mark, we will begin training."

Molly blinked and looked between the two men. "Training? What are you talking about?"

"You're smart, Dr. Hooper. You know precisely what we're referring to," Mycroft responded, looking positively bored.

She sighed. "Great. You're going to send him off to save the bloody world too, aren't you?"

Sherlock grinned. "Is that what I do? Save the world?"

She hit his chest. "I'm just trying to keep his best interest at heart. This is all unchartered territory."

"As we're aware, Dr. Hooper," Mycroft began, "We are monitoring him closely. We will do what is best."

He disappeared out the room. Molly looked to Sherlock and couldn't help but smile.

"Well, this has been an interesting two weeks. And now I'm fifty thousand pounds richer." She couldn't help the delighted tone to her voice.

Sherlock smiled in return. "Yes. It has been. Will you accompany me back to Baker Street? We have a lot to discuss. And I want to show you something."

Molly nodded and gazed back to William, who was still running. He met her gaze and grinned, offering her a wink. She laughed and blew him a kiss. Sherlock gave the man a curt nod, before steering her out of the room.

"I really grew to care for him," She added softly, as they were ushered into the town car.

"As did I," Sherlock admitted with a sigh, "But, we will have the opportunity to see him again in the future."

Molly nodded and gazed out the window, watching the landscape as the car drove on. She bit her lip and turned back to Sherlock.

"What if he lives indefinitely? Then what?"

Sherlock considered her question. "I don't know, Molly. But, I suppose the world could use another me."

She couldn't help but snort. "That's debatable."

He scowled, before she settled his features with a quick kiss.

Xxx

Later that evening, Sherlock and Molly sat on the sofa, feasting on Thai takeaway. They were happy to be back at the real Baker Street, even if the replica had felt rather homely. Sherlock was enjoying his final evening before being whisked away with his next task, knowing he'd be gone for more than a few weeks.

Molly leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. She sighed.

"We finally get somewhere and now you're leaving," She whispered, a playful pout spreading across her lips.

Sherlock nodded and sat up, ignoring Molly's protests as he stood up. He just smirked.

"I'm aware the timing is awful. But I do have a parting gift."

He disappeared out of the room, leaving Molly to spread out across the sofa, letting out a groan. She immediately perked back up as he entered the room, holding a laptop she didn't recognize. She raised an eyebrow.

"That's new. Where did you get that?"

"Mycroft. It's not important. What I have on it, however, is."

He rejoined her on the sofa and began clicking through files, until a video started. He fast-forwarded until a familiar scene began to play, causing Molly to let out a surprised gasp and perk up in her seat. She looked over to Sherlock, her mouth agape.

"How did you…?"

He smirked. "Everything was on tape, as we know. So, before destroying the files of our… nightly activities, I may have kept them all. For future enjoyment."

Molly let out a soft moan and looked to the screen, shivering at the sight of her using her mouth on two deliciously hard cocks. Her body was immediately craving the attention of the two men she had shared for almost two full weeks.

 _Great. They've ruined sex for you._

And so, a little while later, Molly and Sherlock had sprawled across the sofa, lit candles (Molly insisted) surrounding the coffee table. The laptop was playing a particularly carnal evening from the previous week, allowing the couple to enjoy the delicious activity.

They had snogged a bit before falling asleep (evidently two weeks of extremely vigorous sex will do that), the video continuing to play. Content in each other's arms, they didn't stir as the front door opened, and an irritated John Watson strolled into the flat.

"I had to find out from Mycroft—" He immediately stopped speaking as his eyes landed on the embracing Molly and Sherlock. He couldn't help but smile, happy to see his friends finally finding happiness.

As he turned to leave, interesting noises from the computer, namely a feminine squeal and a masculine grunt, stopped him in his tracks. His curiosity won over as he approached the sofa, leaning over to laptop.

He couldn't help but laugh as his eyes landed on the video, watching as a petite woman was taken from behind, her mouth wrapped around another bloke's cock.

 _Interesting. They're already watching porn together._

He laughed again and turned to leave, until a very Sherlock noise caught his attention. He blinked a few times and returned his attention to the screen, quite literally almost falling over as realization hit him. That petite woman was Molly, and she was rather enjoying the attention of Sherlock and…

 _THE CLONE?!_

His mouth dropped open and his eyes remained plastered to the screen, embarrassed to admit that he could not look away.

"Do you like what you see?" Sherlock's deep voice had John falling over, landing with a groan on the carpet. He looked towards the curly-haired detective, who remained on the sofa, his eyes shut.

"I… I…"

Even with his eyes closed, he smirked. "You discovered our little secret, John."

John sputtered and pulled at his collar. "Well I—"

"Mhm. Maybe I'll let you borrow the video sometime."

John blinked and turned red. "I don't—"

Molly's voice both had them turning to the woman in surprise. As she opened her eyes, she bit her lip and flushed red. "Or maybe play your cards right and you'll be number three next time."

John opened his mouth, but closed it once he realized that no words would come out. He cleared his throat, offered the couple a curt nod, and raced out the door.

She just laughed and snuggled into Sherlock. He watched her with curious eyes.

"My god, Molly. Have you become sexually adventurous in the past fortnight?"

She smirked and kissed him softly, her eyes mischievous. "Maybe William rubbed off on me."

"But John?"

She shrugged and straddled him, her hands moving to play with the lapels of his dressing gown. She kissed him again and smiled.

"Might be a fun experiment."

Sherlock let out a choked noise before kissing her again.

Xxx

Back at the lab, Mycroft closed the folder and looked towards Dr. Dawson. He checked his watch for the third time.

"So, to put it succinctly, yes, we can genetically modify any of our reproductive clones. Just as you requested that Subject 36 lack self-control and have a healthy sex drive, we could do similar changes with future subjects."

Mycroft smirked and nodded, before rising to his feet. "I'm glad this experiment was a success. In more regards than just the science."

Dr. Dawson gave the man a curious gaze. "I'm not sure I follow."

"I wanted to teach my brother a lesson, Dr. Dawson. I do believe that was accomplished."

Dr. Dawson nodded, although still appeared confused. "I meant to inform you. Some of our cameras and system files failed. We're missing most footage from the flat during the evening."

Mycroft smirked. "I'm aware. I let Sherlock tamper with the system."

The pudgy man sputtered. "But—that was—you can't—"

"Believe me," Mycroft began, heading towards the door, "There are some things that should not be seen."

 _My dearest brother, however, would disagree._

 **The End**

… **Maybe**


End file.
